The hills rose to meet the peaks, the prominence of their long curves reminiscent of the waves of the sea. The mountains towered above them like gigantic successive tiers, until they blocked the horizon with their jagged mass.
Elysia had feared that she would have difficulty locating the path to Silver Peak Mountain, but she was clearly visible. It was a simple detour from the one she and Frey had followed the day before, when they descended at the bottom of the chain.
She began to feel the strain in her back, thighs, and calves as the trail climbed higher and higher. It had been cut into the side of the mountain by the passage of countless feet, and Elysia wondered if the alchemist had ever traveled that route, or if it was a path left behind by less human feet. Some of the signs carved into the rocks were in the form of crude eyes, but he couldn't tell if they were signs intended to warn the traveler of the presence of goblins in the area, or territorial markings, made by the skins themselves. green.
Apparently, Frey was enjoying the ride, as he awkwardly hummed a song to himself and began the ascent without any apparent effort. He made his way along the slippery path without difficulty, finding footholds where Elysia couldn't see them. A short time later, the catgirl found it easier to follow in Frey's footsteps, since Frey was in an environment she was adapted to and it seemed more prudent to let him lead the charge.
Sweat trickled down the catgirl's back, and her breathing was ragged. She had thought she was hardened from her long journey back, but the effort of climbing that hill was painful. The beating she had received and the alchemist's treatment had worn her out, and she was worried about her ability to make it all the way to the top, which would be even worse if the clouds decided to make good on her threat of rain.
Although the benefits conferred by her armor were remarkable, Elysia's physical ability was limited, and she still hadn't recovered from her injuries. She was sure, if it weren't for the bonuses granted by the armor, she would have fallen to the ground long ago unable to continue walking.
The ruggedness of the landscape, filled with rocky outcroppings and windswept land, matched her stormy mood. Elysia burned with hatred for Wolf Ladmer, she detested the easy cruelty of the wealthy merchant's son and his spoiled-child arrogance. When she was still a slave, she had met a dozen like him, but she had never had to face the situation of being the object of cruelty, since her owner's fortune and social status had protected her from something. similar.
She understood why Greta had been so upset. She tried not to think about what had happened between her and Wolf, but the thoughts that Ladmer had forced himself on the girl kept coming to her mind and driving her half mad with fury. She swore to herself that she would bring healing to Frey and that she would make that brat pay for her vileness. She continued walking as she cursed to herself and fought the urge to yell at Frey to stop the hellish humming.
Frey disappeared across the crest of a rise, and Elysia cursed as her feet slipped on loose pebbles; Luckily, during her fall, she did not hurt her hands with the edges of the sharp rock fragments, because the gauntlets of her armor protected her from her. She crawled to the other side of the ridge and found herself lying on the soft tundra.
She wondered why the mountain sunflower had to grow on the highest slopes, just below the snowfield. Why couldn't it grow at the foot of the mountains like all the other flowers? After a moment, she shrugged because she had never in her life discovered that few things were easy. Perhaps the alchemists used the ingredients they used only because they were hard to come by, just to add to the mystique surrounding her art. She wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if that was the case.
She sat up and took another painkiller to dull the throbbing pain inside her head. This was going to be a long day.
♦ ♦ ♦
Stout evergreens lined the steep slopes of the narrow valley like bristly beard hairs on a giant's heavenward face. To the right, high above, a waterfall formed a series of spectacular leaps over hundred-foot drops, before plunging into a small lake in the center of the valley. Mountains framed the hollow, and Elysia had to crane her neck far back to see the peaks. Looking down the valley was like looking down the sights of a crossbow; the eye focused on the line of gray peaks receding into the distance.
There, the pungent scent of roses mingled with that of honeysuckle and rose hips. The tangled bushes struggled with each other for space, their flowers like the helmets of colorful armies in battle. She wondered if there were any sunflowers around, but then she remembered where Luthor had told her that she should pick the magical ingredient.
Sudden movement caught her eye as the head of a huge moose, almost as tall as a man, emerged from the bushes that overlooked a ledge of rock fifty meters above her. She watched warily from above, as if determining if it was safe to go down to drink water, and Elysia gazed in awe at the powerful curve of her antlers.
As the clouds parted, shafts of sunlight illuminated the hollow, and the chirping of birds reached Catgirl's ears and mingled with the low roar of the waterfall. She bent down to pick up a pineapple, for she liked the feel in her fingers of the scaly roughness of its jagged edges.
For a moment, the beauty of the scene held her in a state of rapture, and even her thoughts of revenge against the merchant's son evaporated. She felt relaxed and at peace, and the pain in her body temporarily vanished. She was glad that she had seen this place, that all the steps of her long journey had led her there, for she knew that she was one of the few people who would see this valley, and the thought of her gave her pleasure. .
The detail of the moose made the scene look like a perfectly composed, painted landscape. However, she then thought that perhaps it was rather strange that a moose was putting a horn to its mouth with a suspiciously human-looking hand, and then she heard a bugle blast that echoed across the valley; before the sound had died away, the certain idea formed in Elysia's brain that she had not seen the head of a moose, but that of a beastman.
She tossed the pineapple in the direction of the lake and, wrapping her crimson cloak around herself against the increasing cold, she hastened to continue climbing after Frey. She looked around her for signs of someone pursuing them, but she didn't detect any, and she couldn't even see the beastman's moose head anywhere.
♦ ♦ ♦
Before long, Elysia knew for sure that they were being followed, for as she turned her eyes to look down the winding path, she saw that they were being chased by a band of mutants. Throughout that afternoon, as Ella and Frey climbed the side of the mountain, the corrupted beings had been gathering behind them. The way back to Frickburg was blocked.
Pausing to let his breathing and heartbeat return to normal, he tried to count the number of pursuers, but it was difficult because the dim light of late afternoon made the creatures blend with the gray of the rock face. .
Since she involved her life with Frey's she knew that she would die somewhere secluded, but she had not imagined that it would be so soon. The situation was too stupid. Frey would never achieve the heroic end he intended. The dark hero was too busy staring blankly into space to notice the danger that lay ahead.
At first, it had been easy to pretend that nothing was happening, that the beast that blew the horn was nothing more than a lone creature, too frightened to charge two well-armed travelers. But as the day wore on, evidence mounted that this was not the case.
When catgirl had seen hoofprints mixed with clawed human feet in the mud around a ford, she'd preferred to think it was an ancient trail, something she didn't need to pay too much attention to. However, she had removed the loop that held the sword in its scabbard.
A while later, as Elysia crawled up the steep slope behind Frey's carefree back, she had noticed the stealthy movements of silhouettes advancing at the same speed as them, slipping from tree to tree on either side of the path. He had tried to see them more clearly, but the shadows of the pines defied even eyesight as keen as his own, and all he could get was the impression that they were tentacled figures careful to stay out of his way. Visual field.Her nerves were starting to get raw and she felt like charging under the branches of the trees in search of enemies. But what if she lost her way? What if there were more than one or two of them? The vague suspicion kept him inactive; he pushed his fears aside and continued his ascent.The situation had become almost unbearable when he heard the sound of a horn far to his right, which was answered by a similar call from across the path. At that moment, he knew that the damned were surrounding them, that they were gathering
They unbolted and unchained the door, and finally it gave a little. Through the crack, light leaked out, along with the pungent smell of chemicals. Elysia pushed open the door, despite the alchemist's resistance, and she made her way inside, where she was surprised to find Greta standing at the other exit from the room. It was obvious that she had hidden in the adjoining outbuildings."Come in, Miss Elysia," the alchemist said in a prickly tone as he stepped aside to let Frey enter.“Wolf is looking for you” the catgirl commented to the Kitsune, who seemed too scared to speak. "Why?""Leave her alone, young lady," Kryptan interjected. “Don't you realize that she's terrified? She suffered quite a horrible shock at the hands of your friend Ladmer.”Quickly, Kryptan filled him in on what Greta had seen when she'd ventured into the merchant's son's quarters the night before, and though he was discreet as to why she'd come there, he men
After exposing Lilith's worshipers and incapacitating several of her satellites, we headed back down the road to Bergheim, leaving our former tormentors at the mercy of their not-so-benevolent fellow citizens. I don't know why we decided on that powerful city as the destination of our trip.During a stop at a roadside tavern, Frey and I decided that we should avoid the main route, which was perhaps a stupid decision considered from the present. Inevitably, and perhaps predictably, our drunken decision to take a detour through the woods led to disaster.In our desire to avoid any possible run-ins with law enforcement, we strayed far from the haunts of men, and ended up deep in the woods, in an area long believed to be the site of an Altar. Black. Little did we suspect, as we set off, that we would soon stumble upon stunning proof of the existence of that hideous sanctuary, or do battle with the most powerful of all the followers of the Dark we had encountered so far...<
Suddenly, it was all too much for Kat, and she began to cry tremendous choking sobs as her tears streamed down her soot-smeared face."What was that, Elysia?" asked the harsh voice from somewhere nearby.Kat choked back sobs as stealthy footsteps approached. Something blotted out the sunlight streaming into her hiding place, and she looked up at the face of a girl framed by long black hair and wearing a pair of cat ears, who stared back at her with eyes with vertical pupils which, Unlike the evil eyes of a beastman, they reflected nervousness, weariness, and for some reason, disappointment. Kat found herself staring at the sharp point of a long sword, the blade etched with faint marks."Come out slowly" said the unknown girl, whose soft and educated voice was then cold and without a trace of mercy.Kat crawled out into the daylight, realizing that she was near death at the time.She stood up and saw that the girl was much taller than her and was dr
The catgirl looked up at Frey, who was in front of her, sitting against the trunk of a fallen tree and staring into the depths of the fire; he watched the flickering flames as if he could divine some mysterious truth in them. His hands played idly with the flints he used to light the fire; lit from below, the severe angles of his face seemed as roughly carved as the granite wall of a cliff. The oscillations of the fire made the shadows chase each other across her cheeks. The light reflected off the pupil of her eyes, which shone with inhuman sparkles like a star. Beside him lay Kat, motionless and breathing regularly, apparently asleep on Frey's crimson cloak which was spread out on the ground.The sight of Frey taking care of Kat brought a strange question to Elysia's mind. What would Frey be like as a father? If they had children, how would he treat them?Frey felt Elysia watching him, and she looked up at him."What's troubling you, Elysia?"Catgirl av
"You have failed, my love," said Salthor, a Demon Lord in the service of Baal, the dark god of Wrath, despair, and vengeance, calmly. He looked at her through her usurped eyes, and Jasmine felt a shudder run through her to the core of her being.She backed away, for he was well aware of the punishments her patron could inflict on him when he was displeased. Instinctively, her fingers closed around the ruby hilt of her black warsword. She shook her head and her great mane of white-streaked black hair ruffled. She felt helpless. Even though she had a small army of beastmen at her service, she knew there was nothing they could do to help her. In the presence of her boss, no one could help her, no one. She was glad that the old beastman shaman, Grind, and his acolytes had withdrawn beyond the Altar when she finished the invocation, for she did not wish to have witnesses to her defeat."Everyone in the village is dead, as we both decided" she lied, knowing it was useless.
Jasmine made her way through the throng of her followers to take her place on the carved wooden throne, and once on it she rested the bare sword across her on her legs and faced the mightiest of the ranks. horde. The sword was to all present a reminder of how she ruled, a naked symbol of her power. She had the favor of the Baal, the dark god of Wrath, despair and revenge; and the expression of that favor was the power she wielded. The beastmen might not like her, but they would have to put up with her until one of them, according to her early code, could best her in single combat. And none would challenge her if she had any sense, for they all knew of Salthor's prophecy, made when she was promoted to the ranks of the Demonic Knight. They all knew what the demon had said: that no warrior would ever defeat her in combat. They had all witnessed that truth, though they were beastmen anyway, and defying their leader was an instinctive purpose for them.That night she almost wished
“Wake up, Elysia! Something is coming!”Elysia came out of her doze, her mind still cluttered with remnants of haunting dreams, shaking her head to clear it, her neck and back aching from lying on the cold forest floor. The chill had broken through the insulation provided by the leaves of the trees and drained the strength from her body. She got slowly to her feet, rubbed her sleepy eyes, and, as quietly as she could, drew her sword and looked around her.Frey stood close to her, like a solid statue frozen in the dim light of the dying fire. The red glow of the embers reflected on the blade of the sword, and it seemed that the dark hero held a blood-painted weapon in his hands.Elysia looked up at the sky, and saw that the moon had almost set. Fortunately, dawn was not far off."What is it about?" she asked, but her voice caught in her throat and came out as a raspy whisper. She didn't need to see Frey's alert posture to know that something wa